


Truth Be Told

by Why_so_drama



Category: Men's Hockey RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Shapeshifters, Curses, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-08 06:32:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16424225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Why_so_drama/pseuds/Why_so_drama
Summary: They’re teammates, they’ve won the Cup together. Zhenya doesn’t know if Sid considers him a friend as well, but it’s well past time he find out.





	Truth Be Told

**Author's Note:**

  * For [nuttymussel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/nuttymussel/gifts).



Zhenya doesn’t like talking about Sidney Crosby.

It’s not that he doesn’t like the guy, but Sidney’s position as an alternate captain who’s also one of the few non-shifters on the team makes it awkward to say anything without him becoming a headline. Zhenya thinks he’s made it pretty clear that he supports Sidney, and has nothing against him being a baseline human. It’s been years since he was drafted; first overall non-shifter or not, you would think reporters would stop making a big deal out of it by now.

His post-practice media scrum ends before Sidney’s does, so Zhenya heads toward the showers, after pausing to peek over a reporter’s shoulder. Sidney is still patiently answering questions, but his eyes flick over when Zhenya waves and mimes that they should go get something to eat afterwards. The corner of Sidney’s mouth twitches like he wants to smile. Zhenya considers it a win and goes on his way.

It’s a work in progress, trying to get Sidney to hang out with him off the ice. There had been the language barrier at first, of course, and then Sidney often declining to go out with the team, seemingly uncomfortable with the amount of attention he draws. An extra half hour working on bank passes after practice is fine. Invitations to lunch with the rest of the guys, even in smaller groups, is kind of hit or miss. Anything involving anyone being shifted is a definite no.

Zhenya isn't entirely sure what that last one is about. Sidney doesn’t bat an eyelash at the variety of shapes that come and go from their locker room, but he keeps himself separate. Never touches anyone who’s shifted, never jokes or even asks about things that most non-shifters are nosy about. Never takes part in pre-game soccer, which often devolves into some partially shifted messing around. He keeps to himself, plays some fucking good hockey, and goes about...whatever he does he isn't being a Pittsburgh Penguin.

They’re teammates, they’ve won the Cup together. Zhenya doesn’t know if Sid considers him a friend as well, but it’s well past time he find out.

 

\---

 

Zhenya likes talking to Sidney Crosby.

They talk plenty on the bench. During games, Sidney yaps almost non-stop; giving instructions to linemates, offering suggestions and asking advice, giving out praise where it’s warranted. He sees the ice differently, something that both the team and the coaches had come to appreciate.

Everywhere else, Sidney is pretty quiet, content to smile and listen, usually sticking close to the French Canadians. Zhenya won’t be surprised if one or two of them tag along to lunch, and while he doesn’t mind, they tend to take over the conversation. He just wants to talk to Sidney, to do the good captain thing and tell him that he’s been playing amazingly. Twenty goals barely halfway through the season is impressive by any standards.   

So Zhenya takes a shower and gets dressed and waits in the lounge area. And waits. He falls asleep for a while and jerks awake to find that’s it’s been more than enough time for Sid to have finished getting ready. There’s no-one else around, so he wanders back into the locker room and finds only the equipment staff.

“Where’s Sid?”

Dana shrugs. “He left a while ago. Kind of in a rush.”

Zhenya frowns. “I’m wait for him outside.”

“He must have passed you.”

That seems strangely rude of Sidney, so Zhenya goes to check the parking lot. Sidney’s Range Rover isn’t in it’s usual spot, so he really must have gone home. Disgruntled, Zhenya pulls out his phone, only to realise there’s a text from Sidney.

**_Sorry, raincheck. :(_ **

That isn’t completely surprising, but Zhenya hopes it that it’s because something came up instead of Sidney not wanting to go with him for whatever reason. He texts back just to make sure.

**_U ok?_ **

Sidney isn’t always the fastest to respond. Zhenya gets some takeout on the way home, eats while watching TV and takes another nap before his phone chimes with a reply; a single letter Y, no punctuation. He supposes that means yes and decides to let it lie till tomorrow.

He's been trying really hard to be more punctual since they made him captain, but Zhenya is still never the first to arrive at morning skate. As long as he's not outright late, or the last, he figures he's fine.

“Now do it everyday,” Seryozha says when Zhenya gets in early the next day and looks too pleased with himself.

“I'm doing fine. Look, even Sidney isn't here yet!”

Which itself is unusual, and gets stranger when Sidney is the last guy to step out onto the ice. He takes a knee with the rest of the team and listen to what the coach is saying, either not seeing or ignoring Zhenya’s little wave to get his attention.

Practice doesn't offer many opportunities to talk properly. Zhenya skates over to Flower during a lull.

“Hey, what’s wrong with Sid?”

Flower glances over to where Sid is in a conversation with the coach. “Is he more weird than usual?”

“He rush home yesterday. We supposed to have lunch but he leave. Not even say, then text sorry but not say why.”

“Did you ask him?” Flower’s expression is skeptical.

Zhenya frowns. He had been trying to, but Sidney is hyper focused on practice and seemingly never quite looking in Zhenya’s direction. He’s starting to wonder if it’s deliberate.

“I’m try but he have game face, not look at me. Maybe he talk to you.”

Sidney’s soft spot for Flower is well known, and Zhenya isn’t above using it to find out what’s bothering his alternate.

 

\---

 

Zhenya wants to talk to Sidney Crosby.

He’s willing to let the weirdness at morning skate slide. They’re playing the Capitals that evening, and that always has Sidney a little on edge, his odd rivalry with Ovechkin making him even more competitive than usual. Zhenya catches glimpses of him between his own pre-game rituals, but doesn’t actually manage to say anything to him until it’s time for their handshake.

“You ready?” He asks after they bump helmets.

Sidney looks tired up close, the dark circles under his eyes a rare sight, but he nods and waddles off. Zhenya follows, even more convinced that something isn’t right. It will have to wait till after the game, though.

It’s never easy against Washington, but they squeak out a win in overtime. Zhenya gets a goal and an assist, but all Sidney has to show is a couple of shots and probably bruises from where Ovechkin checked him into the boards.

Jen doesn't put his name up for media availability after the game,so Zhenya ends up with more reporters than usual. By the time he's done, Sidney is long gone. He manages to catch Flower though, and asks again if he knows anything.

Flower looks troubled, which isn't a good sign. He's an excellent liar, but he hesitates before replying, “Sid’s just going through some stuff, he wants to be left alone.”

Zhenya can't shake the feeling that Sidney is avoiding him specifically. “He say if he need help?”

“Maybe.”

That isn't good enough, so Zhenya sits in his car and painstakingly picks out a text, actually checking his electronic dictionary to make sure he's phrasing it right.

**I do not know what is going on, but please say if you need help. I am worried about you.**

That doesn’t get a reply for over an hour. When it comes, it’s just a simple ‘ **Ok’** , which is both baffling and irritating. Zhenya actually stops the movie he’s watching, sits up properly and hits call. The phone rings and rings and he’s almost tempted to give up before Sidney answers.

“Uh, hey.”

“Sid, why you being so weird?”

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

Zhenya scowls, because Sidney can be notoriously stubborn. “You ok?”

That results in an odd silence, where it sounds like Sidney starts to stay something a few times, but stops abruptly. “It’s fine.”

“Not answer, Sid!”

More silence, and then Sidney makes a frustrated noise. “I don’t want to talk to you right now, Geno!”  

Zhenya reels back a little as though it had been said to his face. “Why?”

“Because I might--” There’s a muffled sound, Sidney’s voice cutting off abruptly, making Zhenya leap to his feet, panicked.

“ _Sid!_ ”

Sidney gasps like he’s taking a deep breath. “I’m okay!”

What the actual fuck.

“I’m come over,” Zhenya says grimly. “Open door when you see me.”

“Geno, don’t--” Sid starts, but Zhenya hangs up on him. Whatever the hell is going on, he’s not going to get a straight answer expect in person.

Shifting with clothes is a tricky thing, so he strips down to boxer briefs and a fitted t-shirt before padding outside barefoot, regretting it almost immediately. It's January and freezing, but the chill recedes as he shifts. It will be faster than taking the car.

The wolf is made for much colder weather than this, and Zhenya has no distractions as sets off at a run towards Sid’s house. His mind fills with all sorts of terrible half formed scenarios of Sidney lying about being hurt or sick, or being being held hostage, or --somehow the worst-- thinking about leaving the Pens. For all their shifter related bias, people know that Sidney is an amazing player. The speculation that he might not be happy playing in Zhenya’s shadow bothers him every off season, even though he wouldn't blame Sidney at all if he left. He would miss him, though.

Sidney lives in a house with a gate like a vault and an intercom that Zhenya can press if he gets up on his hind legs. He totters on them for a while, making sure the camera catches him, and yips a bit. The gate opens after what seems like forever, and Zhenya takes off towards the house, sniffing for intruders. There's nothing but traces of Sidney’s scent, as far as people go, so that rules out some kind of home invasion. They probably wouldn't have let in a huge wolf anyway.

Bounding up the stairs onto the porch, Zhenya rears up again to ring the doorbell. He hears footsteps and smells Sidney on the other side of the door, clearly hesitating.

Zhenya paws at the door before remembering that Sid gets skittish around shifted forms. A moment of concentration and he’s uncurling back into a human. An idiot human who didn't think this through and shivers violently in his t-shirt and boxers and bare feet.

“Sid!” he yells. “Open door, I'm freeze out here!”

The door opens a crack, and then further, Sidney’s eyes widening at the sight of Zhenya. “What the fuck,” he says, standing aside to let Zhenya in. “Why aren't you wearing anything warm?”

“Hard to shift,” Zhenya says dismissively, and looks at Sidney up and down. He doesn't seem hurt, but he's definitely wound up. There’s tension in his crossed arms and careful distance. “Sid, what's wrong? ”

Sidney’s face scrunches up. “Something happened during the media scrum yesterday,” he blurts out, and then looks extremely annoyed.

“What happen? They ask more stupid questions again?” Zhenya rubs his arms and shifts from foot to foot, trying to get warm.

“I think someone cursed me.”

They stare at each other for a few seconds, Zhenya stilling and blinking in surprise while Sidney looks dismayed. Curses happen, because there _are_ people with that kind of power, but to those who have done something wrong. Zhenya can't imagine what Sidney could have possibly done to deserve it.

“What it make you do?”

“Tell the truth.” Sidney sounds resigned now.

Of all the ways to make someone's life difficult, that seems to be an odd one to throw at Sidney. He's a fairly straightforward guy, and doesn’t lie at all as far as Zhenya knows. Which might not be a lot, but it just seems unlikely.

Zhenya frowns. “Is why you not talk to me? Give weird answer when I ask?”

“Yeah, I didn’t want to bother anyone about it,” Sid replies, and huffs in exasperation. “It’s kind of hard to control.”

“On phone before, you stop suddenly, what happen?”

Sidney visibly flushes at that. “Put a pillow over my face to stop talking. It was dumb. You look cold, let me get you some stuff.”

He hurries off, eventually coming back with a hoodie, sweatpants and a pair of socks. Nothing fits quite right, but Zhenya is thankfully warm, and Sidney makes him a cup of coffee for good measure. Then they sit down to talk.

It's slow going, because Sid is compelled to answer truthfully every time Zhenya interjects to ask something, and it makes him increasingly flustered. They agree that Zhenya will try to dial down the questions, and Sidney will explain.

He had told Flower, apparently, and was hoping that Flower’s witch ancestry meant he might be able to find something. In the meantime, Sidney had been scouring the internet for whatever he could find about truth curses, worried enough that he had stayed up late the day before a game.

“It varies,” Sidney says, picking at the corner of a couch cushion. “Some of the sites say it’ll wear off by itself, some of them say it can be months, or even years. It depends on who cast it and how.”

Zhenya makes a mental note to ask around as well. “Why anyone want to curse you?” he muses. “Any idea who do it?”

“I’ve been trying to narrow it down--”

“So many?”

Sidney actually stops and gives him a look, like Zhenya is being deliberately stupid.

“There are still plenty of people who think I have no place here, Geno. And a lot who don’t like being beaten by a non-shifter. There’s even some who think I’m just a fluke, or a liar doing it for the publicity.” 

Zhenya had known that, distantly, but he had obviously underestimated the amount of crap still being thrown Sidney’s way. The idea of him lying about not being a shifter is absurd. But Sidney is so secretive sometimes… 

“You not, right?”

“No!"

Sidney looks so offended that Zhenya apologizes immediately. “Sorry, Sid. Is just, you alone so much; could be and we never know. I’m always wish you join us.”

“Yeah, well.” Sidney looks away. “It’s complicated. Please don’t make me talk about it.”

“Okay.” Zhenya has already barged into Sidney’s house and made him talk when he didn’t really want to. The least he can do is respect this much, even though he’s dying to know why. They’ve talked plenty of hockey, but never really anything personal.

“So, narrow down to who?”

 

\---

 

Zhenya won’t let anyone talk to Sidney Crosby.

At least, that’s how it comes across to the rest of the team, because Talbo pulls him aside at one point. “Dude, fucking chill. I know you and Sid are BFFs lately, but he’s a big boy, he can take a joke about that ass.”

Not when said joke had been a teasing question as to how much action that ass would see if Sidney scored a hat trick. Zhenya had looked over to see Sid turning pink, almost biting at his glove in an effort not to say anything, and declared that it would be way more action than Max could ever dream of, and that was just getting the hatty. They had chirped back and forth long enough for Sidney to make a retreat to the showers.

Between Zhenya and Flower and convenient interruptions, Sidney doesn’t have to answer anything too revealing. Media is still tricky, though, especially because Sidney is fairly sure that the source of the curse is one of the newer reporters.

There’s one that asks rather personal questions, which Sidney has been giving politely bland non-answers to, but it was the focus questions about being a non-shifter that tipped him off. There had been one during the last scrum, about how it felt to be one of the few non-shifters with their name on the Stanley Cup. Sidney doesn’t remember exactly what he had said to that, but it had been cutting and a lot more pointed than they were used to hearing from him. Maybe the guy still thought Sidney was still lying.

Zhenya had asked Jen if that reporter could be banned, but without concrete proof that the guy had cast the curse, it was hard to justify banning a media pass. She promises to do what she can to make sure Sidney isn’t asked anything inappropriate. With her help, they talk to management, which promptly takes over looking into breaking the curse. They’re told to just focus on their game.

Sidney doesn’t want to tell the team, so he ends up hanging around a lot with Zhenya and Flower. The two of them do their best not to to trigger the curse when talking to him, but are also petty about answering the suspected reporter’s questions. As a shifter and a witch --a common choice for goalie-- they’re hardly asked anything unusual, but Zhenya is happy to fall back into being ‘confused’ by complicated questions. Flower, meanwhile, somehow makes sure that the guy’s equipment malfunctions at every opportunity.

Sometimes Zhenya forgets, too caught up in the novelty of spending so much time with  Sidney to remember not to ask him things. He finds out that eating peanut butter and jam before every game is only partially because of superstition, but it’s mostly because Sid actually really likes eating the sandwiches and hadn’t seen a reason to stop. He also cheats on their meal plan a lot more than he lets on, absolutely hated losing the Calder trophy to Ovechkin in their rookie year, and has conflicted feelings about his little sister --also a non-shifter-- starting to playing hockey. 

Zhenya is curious about the last one, but tries his best to respect Sidney’s wishes not to ask. He finds that that enjoys listening to Sidney talk about whatever he wants, which is an unexpectedly wide range of things. They've started to hang out together outside of hockey; watching movies and playing video games, trying to follow Zhenya’s mama’s recipes, and generally just developing the friendship that they’d never really gotten the chance to.

It’s a bit of a revelation, watching Sidney giggling over their misshapen attempt at pelmeni. His eyes are bright, tongue sticking out in concentration as he tries again, and all Zhenya can do is watch, fond and a little resigned. He always did fall easy.

Now that they _are_ friends, Zhenya is a little confused as to why Sidney spends so much time on his own. He clearly enjoys socializing, content to talk Zhenya’s ear off about whatever had caught his interest, and he’s attractive, in a dorky sort of way.

“Sid,” Zhenya says one afternoon, when they’re lying around after a movie, too lazy to get up and put something else on. “Why you always by yourself? Never bring dates for skate, no friends outside team-”

“It’s easier than coming out.” Sidney replies, seemingly without thinking. He’s gotten a lot more comfortable with Zhenya’s questions, but he sits up now, suddenly looking wary.

“Mean you like boy?” Zhenya asks, because he’s heard that phrase before but wants to be sure.  

“Uh, yeah. It makes some people...uncomfortable.”

Zhenya uncurls from where he’d been on the other half of the sectional, covered in a soft Pens blanket. “I’m not uncomfortable,” he says, meeting Sidney’s gaze. “Sometimes I’m like boys too.”

Sidney’s eyes go wide. “Oh. That’s, uh, that’s good to know.”

“Yeah?” Zhenya asks, and watches the slow smile make it’s way over Sidney’s face.

“Yeah.”

 

—-

 

Zhenya can’t stop anyone talking to Sidney Crosby.

For all his being a loner, the team likes Sidney, and gets increasingly salty about Zhenya hogging all of his attention. Zhenya can’t help but feel protective now, though. He knows what Sidney is going through, and he knows that Sidney doesn’t want to give all his secrets away just because of some nosy fucking reporter.

Zhenya should have expected the French Canadian intervention sooner, to be honest. Flower had kept his promise not to tell the team, so they resort to divide and conquer. Talbo holds up Zhenya in the showers by starting a nonsense debate about hair gel, so he’s not in the change room when Duper approaches Sidney.

He comes out just in time to hear Duper ask, “What, are you and Geno dating now?”

Sidney’s face does something complicated, and he quickly brings up his hand to cover his mouth. It doesn’t quite work, and everyone nearby hears his muffled, “I wish.”

Their eyes meet, and Sidney turns deep red before turning to flee the room.

“Good job, Duper,” someone, maybe TK, complains, but Zhenya isn’t listening. He runs after Sid and reaches the door, only to find Tanger and Flower just outside, arguing about something in French. Jen is also there, and tells Zhenya to put some clothes on if he’s going anywhere.

Zhenya sighs and returns to his stall. There’s no way that he’s going to catch Sidney now.

 

—-

 

Zhenya needs to talk to Sidney Crosby.

He doesn’t answer texts or phone calls, and though it’s only a matter of time before they have to be in the same place again, Zhenya doesn’t want to wait. Scrolling back through his last sent texts, he’s about to type another one to Sidney when his phone rings. It’s the GM, so he picks up immediately.

“We can’t reach Sid, so we need you to pass a on message. The reporter he told us about has been bothering non-shifters on other teams too, so we’re taking care of it. The curse should be broken by the end of the day.”

“Good, yes, thank you,” Zhenya babbles, and hangs up.

It’s a weird deja vu of a few weeks ago when Zhenya hurries out of his house, shifting as he goes. He doesn’t bother about clothes this time, resulting the wolf having to wriggle out of sweatpants and being somewhat stuck in an unzipped hoodie. It doesn’t impede his movement too much, so Zhenya stops trying to get out of it and takes off down the street.

He gets him a  lot of weird looks as he goes, and even more when he scrabbles with his paws to punch in the gate code Sidney had told him. It’s still cold, so he doesn’t shift back until he’s on Sidney’s doorstep.

“Sid!” he calls, bouncing on his toes a little. “Sid, Shero say curse break end of today. But I want talk to you before!”

There’s a movement out of the corner of his eye, like someone had moved away from a window.

“Don’t have to be embarass,” Zhenya continues. “I’m hear what you say and I’m wish too, if you want.”

Just like before, the door opens a crack and Sidney peers out. “You mean that?” he asks quietly.

Zhenya wraps the hoodie around himself and nods. “Not need truth curse to tell you this.”

Sidney lets him in, shaking his head at Zhenya’s attempts to warm up. “Why are you even-- never mind. Shero texted me, I only just saw it. Why did you need to see me before the curse breaks?”

He ushers Zhenya to sit on the couch and drapes the Pens blanket over him, stopping when Zhenya reaches out to take his hand. “Geno?”

Zhenya takes a deep breath. “Sid. I think we become good friends now, and I’m learn lots about you. I like you, and team like you, but even before curse, you stay away. Is something we do? Someone hurt you?”

“No. Kind of.” Zhenya loosens his grip but Sidney doesn’t let go of his hand, sitting down next to him instead. “It was a long time ago, I should have gotten over it. I guess I should tell you.”

“Not have to, but want to hear, if you okay to tell.”

Sidney nods. “You know what playing hockey as a kid is like. Lot of picking sides, everyone wants the biggest and strongest guys. I was kind of a shrimp, and not a shifter, but I was good. A lot of kids didn’t like that, especially when I scored on them. A lot of parents didn’t either.”

Zhenya can see that happening, and doesn’t like where this is going. He squeezes Sid’s hand and gets a small smile in return.

“Yeah. My dad always told me not to engage, don’t listen to the things they were saying. He didn’t say what to do if someone came at me though. I don’t think he thought it would ever get that bad. But there was this kid in peewee, he didn’t like that I deked around him or something. After practice, he shoved me around a bit and then he shifted. He was some kind of dog, I dunno, but he was definitely going to bite me, so I panicked. Kinda...grabbed him, managed to throw him a bit. Everyone lost their minds.”

Zhenya thinks back to how Sidney always kept his distance, especially from the bigger shapes on the team. His own wolf is on the larger end, and definitely not the only canine type in the room. No wonder Sidney avoided them.

“I told my dad what happened and he yelled his head off, especially when the coaches said I was at fault. The kid’s parents shifted too, growled at me and stuff. It was a mess. We got banned from that rink, and dad had to find another team for me.”

“But you just defend, not your fault!” Zhenya protests.

Sidney shrugs. “I know. But after that, I just...kept to myself. Learned to ignore all the stuff about non-shifters not being tough enough for hockey. If I played well enough, my team wouldn’t care, and they’d protect me against people that did. Then I realized I liked boys, and then it just seemed like a good idea to stay out of stuff in general.”

Zhenya shuffles around so that he can drag Sidney into a hug. It startles Sidney at first, but he relaxes into it.

“That’s shit,” Zhenya mutters. “Go through so much shit, Sid. But Pens not like that. If they are, just say, I’m beat up.”

“Don’t beat anyone up,” Sidney mumbles against Zhenya’s shoulder. “They’re good guys, I know. It’s just...old habits, okay?”

“One punch,” Zhenya concedes. “Then send to Jen for, what’s it, sensitive training.”

Sidney’s laugh is a ridiculous, honking little thing that Zhenya wants to hear more. “Yeah, that should do it.”

Pulling back, Zhenya cups the side of Sidney’s face. “One more question.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay if I kiss you?”

Sidney beams, eyes crinkling at the corners.

“Yes.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Endless thank yous to T for being my beta, cheerleader and all round lifesaver while I panicked at her constantly.


End file.
